


Post-Epiphany

by PennyLane



Category: Angel: the Series
Genre: Episode Tag, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 23:50:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/830268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PennyLane/pseuds/PennyLane
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>S2. Missing scene for ‘Epiphany’. What Wesley, Cordelia, and Gunn did after Angel rescues them from the Skilosh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Post-Epiphany

"You really hurt my feelings."

Angel watched with growing dismay as Wesley and Gunn helped Cordelia to her feet and then walked past him as if he wasn't even there. They held onto each other like children who were afraid to let go, as if one of them might disappear if they didn't maintain contact. As they stumbled past the kitchen, Angel saw Wesley stop suddenly and breathe, "Oh my lord." 

Then Gunn was urging them on, steering them firmly out of the house. "Nothing we can do for them, Wes," he said quietly.

Angel looked around at the devastation in the house, the dead Skilosh bodies, the truck he'd smashed through the wall, and then slowly followed them outside. He'd done what he set out to do tonight: he'd saved his team. And they still apparently didn't want anything to do with him. He'd known it wasn't going to be easy to get them to take him back, but now he was beginning to think it might be impossible. Outside in the night air he saw the three of them making their way almost drunkenly toward his car, but he noticed what neither Cordelia or Gunn apparently realized. Wesley was listing more and more to one side, his hand pressed tightly against his gut. Angel quickened his pace, long legs eating up the distance that separated them, and he was the one who was right where he needed to be when Wesley's legs suddenly folded. Angel caught him under the arms and held him upright, murmuring, "It's okay, it's okay. I've got you."

"Wesley?" Cordelia was immediately in front of Wesley, her eyes searching for signs of damage as she hastily pulled open his jacket. "What's wrong?" she demanded, her voice sharp with fear. "Are you bleeding? What happened?"

"No, no, I'm not hurt," Wesley assured her quickly, although his voice was a little faint. "I'm afraid I'm a bit more tired than I thought. It's been a...strenuous evening."

"We've got your chair over here, Wes." Gunn bumped into Angel none too gently and tried to muscle his way into his space to take over Wesley's support. Angel hadn't minded (well, all that much) when Gunn had done it at the office over a pad of paper, but this was different. Wesley needed their help; he certainly didn't need to be fought over in some pissy one-upmanship while he was in danger of passing out. So Angel dug in his toes, lowered his center of gravity and refused to be budged. 

"Why don't you get his wheelchair," he suggested, keeping his tone reasonable. "No point in making him walk any further than he has to, is it?"

Gunn glared at him, his dark eyes hard, but he briefly laid a hand on Wesley's shoulder, then turned and jogged over to the side of the house where Angel could see the chair. He could feel faint tremors running through Wesley's body, and he thought about the night he'd seen him in the hospital, how frail he'd looked and how close he'd come to dying. How that one bullet would have torn through muscle and traumatized nerves, causing enough blood loss to send him into shock and nearly kill him. The only time he'd seen him since then was when he'd gone over to their new office to get that book, and Wesley had been in a wheelchair. He'd been angry, Cordelia and Wesley had been angry; it wasn't something he liked to remember. Wesley's voice had been cold and sharp, and in that anger he'd found the strength to push himself to his feet to confront him, because he'd threatened Cordelia. Wesley hadn't been in any condition to take on a kitten, yet he'd stood up to an angry, bullying Angel. When Angel left the office with the book he was ashamed to remember he'd smelled the tang of fresh blood. Was it really any wonder these people didn't want anything to do with him? 

"Come on, Wes. Easy does it." Gunn's voice shook him out of his thoughts, and together he and Gunn carefully lowered Wesley into the wheelchair. Wesley sighed with relief, his eyes sliding shut momentarily. "Thank you," he murmured. Then he opened his eyes and looked up at Angel briefly before looking away. "Both of you," he added in a flat tone.

Angel sighed too. He supposed that was better than nothing. At least Wesley was acknowledging his existence and not giving him the cold shoulder. Although he admitted the cold shoulder might be preferable to the aloofness he'd been displaying in the car earlier. He wasn’t used to Wesley being distant with him, and he really didn't like it. He didn't like any of them treating him like an unwanted stranger, and he'd do anything to fix that.

"Let's get you home, my man," Gunn said turning the chair toward the car.

Angel laid a hand on the chair. "You can't take him back to his place." 

Gunn turned a hard face toward him. "Says who?" he challenged belligerently.

"He's right," Wesley rubbed his forehead wearily. "The Skilosh attack. I'm not sure I’m up to dealing with that tonight."

"Skilosh attack? What Skilosh attack?" Cordelia demanded. "What haven't you told me?"

"They tracked down Wesley at his place," Gunn furnished before Wesley could open his mouth.

Cordelia's eyes widened. "They _attacked_ you?"

Angel said quickly, "I saved him."

Cordelia barely gave him a glance. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine, Cordelia," Wesley assured her. "It's just more running around than I'm used to doing right now." He grimaced. "And one of the Skilosh came through my window without bothering to open it. And there's Skilosh blood all over the place." He paused. "And a hole in my ceiling. I'm afraid it's rather a mess, and more than any of us are up to dealing with tonight."

Angel cleared his throat. "I can take him back to the hotel." When all three of them turned their heads to stare at him, he licked his lips and forged on. "There's plenty of room. He can rest there tonight, and then tomorrow we can go over to his place and --"

"Gunn, take Wesley to the car," Cordelia interrupted, her gaze never leaving Angel. "Wesley's staying with me tonight."

Without a word, Gunn pushed the chair toward the car, and Cordelia turned around so she was fully facing Angel. He motioned helplessly toward Wesley and Gunn. "He's welcome to stay with me. I can take care of him tonight --"

"When Wesley was bleeding to death and we were surrounded by zombie cops," she said in a cold, clear voice, "I don’t recall seeing you around. Gunn and I got him to the hospital that night. We were the ones who sat in the waiting room through his surgery, waiting to hear if he was going to live. We were the ones who visited him every day in the hospital and brought him books and word puzzles and sat and talked to him. When he was released from the hospital, we were the ones who took care of him. You see, his girlfriend, while very nice and very concerned, couldn't handle changing bandages or watching him struggle to get his strength back or deal with the depression he'd fall into even though he fought like hell against it. We made sure he took his pain pills and that he ate properly and we changed his bandages and took him for his doctor's appointments and to the park so he could get some fresh air and sunshine. Because that's what friends do, Angel. So he'll stay with me tonight. And then tomorrow Gunn and I will take him over to his place and we'll clean it up. Because that's what friends do too. They don't abandon people who mean something to them just because the going gets rough." She took a deep breath and said quietly, "So thank you for saving Wesley's life tonight, and thank you killing the Skilosh. But we'll take care of Wesley. You're no longer part of this picture, Angel. You took yourself out of it."

With that, she turned smartly on her heel and walked briskly over to where Gunn and Wesley were waiting in the car. As Angel watched, she got in the passenger side, and Gunn drove away.

Angel stood alone in the darkness for a long time before he finally walked over to Lindsey's truck and climbed inside.

***

"I'm sure I've still got some of your pain pills here, Wesley," Cordelia announced as she went into the bathroom. She could hear a grunt as Gunn carefully settled Wesley on the couch. She suspected he was in a lot more pain than he was letting on, and since the most strenuous thing he'd done since leaving the hospital was researching in his big old books and walking slowly down to the end of the block and back again, it wasn't surprising. She found what she was looking for and carried the bottle out to the kitchen, where she retrieved a glass of water and then walked over to Gunn and Wesley. "These are the good ones, Wes. You know, the ones that knock you out, not the ones that make you all loopy."

Gunn gave Wesley a fond smile as he accepted the two tablets and quickly took them. "Yeah, you're loopy enough, English." He sank down beside Wesley as Cordelia curled up in the other corner. "So, what did happen at your place tonight? And what was Mr. Broods-a-lot doing there?"

Wesley shrugged, then winced. "Skilosh attack, and Angel showed up."

"How did he know you were in danger?" Cordelia demanded.

"He didn't say, and at the time I was much too worried about the fact I couldn't reach you to pursue it. If the Skilosh had managed to track me down then it was very likely they could have found you two as well."

"So what do you think he wants?" Gunn asked. "Do you think he wants to take us back?"

Cordelia happened to be looking at Wesley at that moment and didn't miss the flash of hope that crossed his features before he schooled them back into blankness. She looked away and pretended not to notice. She wondered how many people in Wesley's life had actually wanted him. From the bits and pieces she'd picked up over the last couple of years, she suspected he didn't have a particularly close family. In fact, from some things he'd said she wondered if his father had loved him at all. When he'd come to Sunnydale, which may have been his first real job, he hadn't been wanted there. Then the Council had fired him. Then he'd come to L.A. and Angel had asked him to join Angel Investigations. At first it may have been because Wesley was broke and starving, but he had proven to be invaluable and had saved their asses any number of times with his knowledge and research. Then Angel had fired him. The thought that Angel would want him back was probably pretty appealing to him. But Angel wasn't the only one who wanted him. They'd made a go of their own small business, and Cordelia was proud of that and not ready to let it go.

"So what if he does?" she sniffed. "We've got our own business now."

"Damn straight," Gunn agreed. 

Wesley said slowly, "Let's talk about this for a moment, shall we? Preferably before these pills knock me out." He gazed steadily at Gunn and Cordelia. "What if he is planning to ask us back? We should discuss it and be prepared. We all need to make our own decision, but we owe it to each other to be honest."

Her heart sinking, Cordelia said quietly, "What do you want to do, Wesley?"

"I wouldn't want to sway anyone."

Gunn stretched out his long legs in front of him. "Won't sway me. Let's hear it." Although he sounded hearty, Cordelia noticed he'd tensed up a little too as they waited for Wesley's answer.

It didn't come immediately. Wesley frowned and stared at the floor for a moment before looking up. "I'm very proud of what we have accomplished. I think we have a viable business, and although I haven't been able to pull my own weight recently, I'm on the mend and will soon be able to be out there fighting the good fight alongside you two."

"Hey, I saw _two_ people on this couch come to my rescue tonight," Cordelia pointed out.

"She's right, bro. You were in the thick of it. Nobody can say you haven't been pulling your own weight."

Cordelia grinned, never tired of teasing him, "Yeah, even if that weight is barely a hundred pounds soaking wet."

"I'm certain that would be a good deal funnier with a few more pain pills," Wesley said affably. "As I was saying, we'll be back to full strength in no time, and I think we have a real chance of making our business a success. And, quite frankly, I don't wish to give up our autonomy." He paused, then continued in a quiet voice, "But if you both decide to work for Angel again -- should he ask -- then I'll return with you. Because there is no one I would rather work shoulder to shoulder with in fighting the forces of evil than you two."

Cordelia felt a sting at the back of her eyes and a rush of relief, but she got to her feet and walked around the sofa to Wesley, pressing a kiss onto the top of his head. "I think someone's already had enough pain pills." Gunn grinned and held out a fist, and Cordelia watched as Wesley performed a rather drunken version of their secret handshake. Men. "I vote we stick together and run our own business."

"Amen, sister," Gunn agreed.

Wesley grinned rather dopily at them both, the affection shining out of him. Maybe she _did_ give him the loopy pain pills after all. "I think it's time for someone to get some sleep. Gunn, let's get him into the bedroom."

"No, no I can sleep on the sofa, Cordelia," Wesley protested as they got him to his feet and he began swaying.

"Wesley, you know this sofa is about a foot too short for you. Now, come on, no arguments or I'll have Dennis throw something heavy at you." 

"You would too," he grumbled as he let himself be supported into the bedroom. He was already nearly asleep by the time she and Gunn got him down onto the bed. She left Gunn to deal with his clothes and get him under the covers as she went to gather up a blanket and pillow for her night on the sofa. 

So they still had their little sputtering business, and they were all alive without alien spawn gestating in their heads. The day ended up a good deal better than it might have. 

"Good luck sleeping with the way that boy snores," Gunn told her, coming out of the bedroom.

She waved that aside. "I'm so tired I could sleep through an apocalypse." She plopped the pillow on the sofa and dropped down onto the cushions, her hand automatically going to the back of her head to reassure herself that third eye was really gone. 

"I'm going to stop by Wes's place, see if I can board up that window. I really don’t like the idea of his place being open like that."

"That'd be great," she nodded.

Gunn shrugged. "He'd do it for us," he said simply, then wished her good-night and left.

Almost immediately the lights dimmed, and Cordelia sank down onto her pillow with a murmured, "Thanks, Dennis." She'd spend the night on the sofa while Wesley got some much needed sleep in her bed, Gunn would board up his broken window, and then tomorrow they would go over to Wesley's apartment as a team and clean everything up. Because that's what friends did. And she had the best friends in the world.

##### End

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: ANGEL and its characters is the property of Joss Whedon (Mutant Enemy), David Greenwalt (LazyDave), Fox, and the WB network. No copyright infringement is intended. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.


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